The Reason You Stayed Here
by purpledragon6
Summary: There is a reason why he was left behind in the remains of his empty factory. There was a reason why that voice in his mind did not leave along with the Lorax. There had to be a rhyme to reason for them remaining there, but did it have anything to do with the small child that brought herself to his home? Rated T for swearing and Once-ler/Greed-ler angst and arguing. Not pairing.
1. Chapter 1

**Why You Were Left Here**

**A/N: My little sister is in love with this movie for a reason or reasons I just can't understand. She sat me down with her one day after I promised I would watch the movie with her and in the end I ended up with the happiest villain song ever stuck in my head for four days, ten hours, forty seven minutes, and twelve seconds. During that time, this thing began to form in my mind, which I have decided to name 'Disaster' for some reason, only to be renamed for the sake of the story. **

**Prologue Summary: A thneed may have been a fine thing that everyone needed at one point, but right now he just needed this child and his conscious to leave him alone, and right now she needed someone to help her. **

* * *

_'In this crazy little world of ours, everything is a paper drawing._

_The vibrant blue watercolors of the sky touches down on the crayon green grass down below, while finger painted flowers sprout from the pads of an index finger._

_Nothing is perfect about it, not even the light bulb sun that hangs on a hook in the air, forever undecided on where it would prefer to be._

_So instead it ducks behind the popsicle-stick houses and in between the origami trees, casting the dancing shadows upon any who cross its pencil fixed path. _

_Dolls stay shut up in their houses, unable to venture outward until the strings of their limbs are pulled on by an unseen force, willing them to move in a way that it seems fit. _

_Any form of life is willed to live by the same force that moves us all. Some are called earlier than most, and with a lack of development, the newborn flower is withering already and weak from her short life. _

_A crimson red erupts from her throat like magma, crawling down her lips in a river like trickle before landing to collect around her body, browning upon drying and staining the once green, now brown earth that was below her_

_A thick, mud like smog now wafts up from all around her, choking whatever fight is left in her until every flickering ember is extinguished. _

_From a far away tower, an angel watches her with gentle eyes, holding the remains of the true blue sky before it was painted. _

_She will surely die should she stay in the toxic earth any longer, finding now a terror in the earth she once loved and the earth that once loved her in return. _

_It has forsaken her, much like the flowers among the rest of the dying field, and the angel pities her because of this._

_The two are one in the same. A higher being, and a lowly mud dweller. This invisible connection wills the angel up and out of its home in the heavens, to collect the dying life and being it to a much safer haven where suffering is not allowed._

_The will of the little flower has left it by now, so it closes the petals around its small head before allowing the angel to carry it away.'_

* * *

The owner of a tall standing structure on the corner of the street of the lifted Lorax set down his pen and looked and away from the paper he had been working on as he peered out between the two wooden planks that held his window shut, looking for his muse or inspiration, which was still found on the ground right where he had found her since the day he first began his poem. A little girl she looked to be, about four maybe, with stringy blonde locks that fell about her pale and thin face. The dress she wore was as dark as the earth about her, making her body from the neck down blend in to the earth in such a way that it made her quite easy to miss. She laid unmoving on her side, with a thin trickle of red running down her pale lips and sinking into the dirt beneath her head. She had been that way for quite a while now, ever since she had first collapsed in front of the home just days earlier. The hermit had seen her fall, but he did nothing to try and held the little child, seeming to fear that he would end up doing the child more harm than good should he attempt anything.

_'Is she dead?' _He often found himself thinking as he paced about his room, silently peaking out of the window and down at the child. _'If she is, well then what good is it to leave and go check on her?' _

With that in mind, he didn't go down to check on her, and instead decided to write about her, comparing her death to that of a flower, and his watching of her as that as an angel, as if trying to convince himself that he was one. Just like he had done during the time of the Lorax and the truffla trees. This thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, as he looked down at the ground below him now at the still laying little girl. It almost angered him that her body was still there, disturbing his solitude and trying to give him company and fresh ideas for a new start, which were two things that he just didn't want.

_'Just leave her be. If shes dead then she will decay.' _One half of his mind said, but then the other always would come back with, _'If she is alive, then wake her up and she will leave.' _

"But I can't just leave her there..." He muttered to himself, looking back down and sighing.

From below, the sickly thick wind blew lowly around her, pushing both her hair and the smog around her around in an unplanned dance, bringing both the smell of blood, smog, and an unknown sound up the very top window of the building. Whimpering, was the child whimpering? Well, it surely sounded like it, and this was enough to cause panic in the man who heard it.

"Alive... Is she alive!?" He spoke outloud, pressing himself against the wooden barrier and looking down as far as he could.

Sure enough, the child had moved, now lying on her back and her squinted eyes peering blankly up at the sky. Even after all of this time of being left on the ground for dead, she was still alive, and from the sounds of things she was very scared and in need of assistance.

_'Go get her!' _

It was a lone thought, but it caused a force that pushed the hermit up and out of his room, down the hall, and several flights of stairs just to get to the front door.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Reason**

**A/N: I've made a fanart for this story actually, and will be posting it onto my Deviant Art account which is listed on my Profile. **

**P.S: In case any of you are confused, Once and Greed are, at the moment, the same person. Key word being: At the moment. **

* * *

Four and a half.

If he had to guess what age this thing on the ground was, he'd say just that. He couldn't know for sure though, unless the child stopped sniffling long enough to acknowledge him, though ever since he first stepped foot outside she hadn't moved from her spot. Well, that wasn't completely true, for she was now curled up and hugged that small stomach of hers and crying into it like a pillow. What she was crying about, he could only list off in his head quietly to himself.

_'Being lost in a place like this, what ever caused her to fall in the first place (I assume its her coughs), maybe the smog in the air is just irritating her eyes.' _He had these thoughts on a constant tract, playing over and over while he waited on the steps until he finally couldn't take it any longer and spoke up.

"Hey. Stop doing that." Okay, so maybe he wasn't the greatest in dealing with kids, especially when he was in a mood like this one, and added a quick nudge to the child's soft side with his foot. "Hey."

The child's sniffles stopped all together suddenly, and then she quickly uncurled herself from her roly-poly like position and rolled onto her knees and shakily pushed up on her hands. This gave the older being a better look at her, to which he could clearly see that she was no older than four and at the youngest, three. Her sandy blonde curls were a tangled mess about her pudgy little face and fell down her small body until it reached the small of her back. Her eyes were wide now, showing off the tiny flecks of black which were her pupils, swimming around in filmy grey eyes. About her throat and lips, pry stains of brown were painted, from her earlier round of coughing, standing out boldly against her pale completion. She looked startled at first by his appearance, but then this suddenly melted into a look of relief as she suddenly found enough to strength to throw herself at him with a sound which could only be described as delighted.

"Woah! What?" The surprised Greed-ler cried out, looking down suddenly and finding the little girl wrapped tightly around his waist.

The child now chirped happily, and didn't release the hug until she was forced to by a harsh tug at the back of her brown dress collar and set at arms length. She didn't mind though, because now she could see the other better, and quickly began to take notice of random things. Such as his green clothes, his hat, his dark hair, and those blue framed things on his face.

"Oh!" She giggled suddenly, somehow shaking her dress loose from his grip and this time jumping up to wrap her arms around his neck in yet another hug. "Pretty!"

Now this was an awfully confusing and uncomfortable situation for the man to be in. Not just because the hug was a bit random and not really welcome, but also because this little ball of sunshine was the small little ball that had collapsed in front of his home and was thought to be dead for quite a while. It was almost as if this sickly persona she had simply melted away like butter while in the presence of the other. What was this child's deal anyhow, and if he asked would she be able to answer him? So far all she had said was 'Oh', and 'pretty' and neither of those were even complete sentences! Well, there was nothing wrong with giving it a try. It would just be five minutes of his life that he would never get back.

"Hey kid? Are you okay?" He asked, gently poking her button nose with his gloved index, trying to get her dirty face away from his.

"Hmmm..." The child hummed, seemingly trying to decide if she was or not, though a harsh cough erupted from her throat before she could answer, followed by a quick. "Ya."

"Um, okay... I guess I should ask next; What are you doing here anyway? Kind of a far please for a baby to be, don't you think?" He questioned, picking her up under the arms and holding her back out at an arms reach.

"Lost." She said, wiping her mouth and nose on the back of her hand and looking around the area slowly. "Come here. It safe?"

"You got lost and came here because it looked safe?" Well, he certainly wasn't expecting that answer. "How did you get lost in the first place? Parents not watching you close enough?"

"No!" She said boldly, clearing her throat once more and raising her arms high above her head. "They lost! I here, you here, I found!"

The man frowned, and rose the child a little bit higher above his head for some reason or another. Half of him wanted to throw her across the empty field he lived in, and the other half wanted to pull her in close and bring her inside and maybe give her a cup of water for that cough of hers. Neither side won though, so he just sat there holding this funny little kid out in front of him, pondering over which question would be the best to ask next. It was obvious that something was wrong with the little girl, if not mentally then at least physically. Leaving her out here was no longer an option for him, mainly because she knew that he was there in the house now. Well, that really depended on if the child wanted to come in or not, because she might just want some water and then be on her way. It seemed that the best way to test this was to invite her in anyway.

"Do you have a name kid?" He asked, slowly turning himself on his heels to face the front door. "I have many names you know, but I'm going to tell you now that you may call me Greed, or Once but only if the mood is good."

"Zorra." The child, now dubbed Zorra, spoke suddenly, not making a single comment on where this stranger was taking her. "Always Zorra."

"Hm? Funny name, but if its 'always Zorra', then that's all I'll call you." He said simply, really embracing his role as the adult in this situation. "And how are you feeling Zorra? You fell down earlier right?"

"Mhm. It hurt, but I okay." The little Zorra said, clinging to him and shutting her eyes gently. "M'tired..."

"Is that so? Are you sure yo-" He stopped suddenly and looked down at the now snoozing child.

Frowning, he pushed open his front door and stepped into the empty house and then shut it behind him. For months now he had been in here alone, with his mind being the only company he had. Just the thought of having to talk to this little person in his arms was enough to make him feel off. It wasn't really like he had a problem with the little girl on her own, more so he simply didn't want her poking about in his past and bringing up things he chose to sit on and regret instead. Eventually she might begin to question why he lived here, why the land was bare, or even why the air was so irritating. Shaking his head of this thought, he walked towards the winding flight of stairs that lead to the top floor and started up.

Meanwhile, Zorra stayed fast asleep, seemingly drained of all of her energy that had come so suddenly from her before. She seemed quite content now that she was in a pair of arms and not on the hard ground outside. She seemed even more content when they reached the top of the stairs, and then the end of a hall, where she was then set in a nice bed for rest.


End file.
